


Lost City of Mizu

by chaiiaa



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Tales From The SMP - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Lost City of Mizu, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Floris | Fundy, Mentioned Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, No beta we die like Alex Quackity, Tales From The SMP, how does one tag please, idk how tf ao3 works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29296860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaiiaa/pseuds/chaiiaa
Summary: The architecture, as beautiful and astounding as it was, wasn’t what surprised the group the most. In the corner sat a strange man. He wore exotic clothing, a mix of black and white. His eyes were otherworldly, one a bright green, the other a deep red. He donned a small crown, rusted at the tips, that sat atop his blonde hair.Said man stood up from his previous position on the wooden chair with a small crack. “I.. Who are you?” He questioned, tilting his head to the right ever so slightly. He didn’t seem dangerous, but then again he was living alone in an underwater city, seemingly empty of any others, so you could never be too sure.The place was dead silent apart from the curious lap of the waves on the surface.
Kudos: 32





	Lost City of Mizu

Somewhere along the coast, stood a small wooden shack, inhabiting three fisherman, Karl, Alex, and Darryl. The trio were longtime friends, almost like brothers. They had been preparing for a small trip to a nearby island to restock on supplies when Darryl, the oldest of their group, found a note, handwriting nearly illegible, pinned to a tall post outside their home. 

“Hey, guys!” he shouted, summarizing the scribbled words to the best of his ability. 

The note read, “Hello there! You don’t know me, but I know you.. Your lives may be boring now, but rest assured, it is time for you to start creating some “tales” to be remembered! There are many stories that you may have heard that have been passed down from generation to generation; and most are fables.. But some are true! It is time for you to take a look for yourself. There is a lost underwater city nearby that holds much truly valuable information on the history of the great world we live in. I implore you to seek it out. Who knows, maybe you’ll find something you never knew existed!”

Karl looked up at Alex, the two sharing silent words before screaming nonsense and unhitching the boat from its place at the dock. They were always up to something and Darryl would often end up scolding them for the trouble they would cause. Wherever they go, chaos is usually not far behind. 

Darryl made his way over, not quite as enthusiastic about ditching their plans. He grabbed his small, wooden paddles, and got in the front, the others sitting towards the rear.

-

After about an hour of taking wrong turns, seeing as Alex insisted on handling the directions, much to Karl’s dismay, they found themselves staring at what looked to be an underwater city. It was large, with glass corridors and quartz accents. Not far off from their boat was a small island and nothing more than a tiny shelter lay on its shore.

Darryl steered the boat in its direction, hoisting in onto the sandy floor so it didn’t float off during their absence. Karl was the first one to the building, pushing open the door before shouting behind him, “Hurry up! The sun won’t be out for long and I’d rather not be lost at sea in the middle of the night!”

The interior to the compact structure was simply a ladder, and well.. That was it. Just a ladder. Being the most impatient of their unorganized bunch, the blonde was the first down. He landed not so gracefully on the blackstone flooring, eyes widening in surprise when he pushed himself back onto his feet. His friends followed suit, though not landing as harshly as the former. 

What met them at the ocean floor was a number of intricately designed hallways. Hanging from the ceiling of their current room was a large sign with bold, black lettering that said,“Cafeteria”. There was a corridor to the west, a similar sign saying, “Storage” while the others were all unnamed. 

The architecture, as beautiful and astounding as it was, wasn’t what surprised the group the most. In the corner sat a strange man. He wore exotic clothing, a mix of black and white. His eyes were otherworldly, one a bright green, the other a deep red. He donned a small crown, rusted at the tips, that sat atop his blonde hair. 

Said man stood up from his previous position on the wooden chair with a small crack. “I.. Who are you?” He questioned, tilting his head to the right ever so slightly. He didn’t seem dangerous, but then again he was living alone in an underwater city, seemingly empty of any others, so you could never be too sure. 

The place was dead silent apart from the curious lap of the waves on the surface. 

With a tiny step forward, and a spark in his gaze no one could decipher, “Alex. That’s Karl,” he waved a hand to the golden-haired boy behind him, “and that,” gesturing to his left, “is Darryl.” Alex was always an outgoing person, adventurous and inquisitive until the end. He wasn’t one to shy away from much, let alone another human. “Who are you?”

The person in question walked a few hesitant steps towards the lot, now standing in front of the trio. “I’m.. Uh.. Ranbob.. At least I think that’s my name.” Darryl narrowed his eyes, unsure whether or not it was worth his time to listen to the mystery man. “My memory isn’t that good. I tend to remember only the positive things.. Haha..” 

Ranbob, to Darryl at least, sounded oddly familiar to a name in the stories his mother used to read him when he was a child still living in the city. However, he tried his best to shrug it off, not wanting to ruin anything for his friends. 

“Anyway.. Welcome to.. Oh, what was this place called? The Lost City of Mizu! I think..” He murmured something inaudible before continuing. “Would you like a tour?”

Karl, just as curious and excited as Alex, nodded his head vigorously. Darryl, still unsure, trailed behind skeptically. 

Ranbob led them through what looked to be the main hallway, explaining the origins to the best of his ability. “This place is used as a memorial for our descendants. Most of the rooms are designed to match their personalities. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories..” He sighed, stopping at the end of the extensive hall. Doors lined the walls, a sign taped above each one. For a place so grand, you’d think they could afford something a little more pleasing to look at than tape..

“This is Ranboo’s room.” Ranbob stated, voice monotone. He twisted the doorknob, letting the door hit the white wallpaper before bouncing back. The room was adorned with a small bed, black sheets neatly dressing it, some bookshelves, and a small table in the corner. 

Darryl, speaking up for the first time in a while, queried, “Ranboo? Wasn’t he like.. A villain in the stories? Why would there be a room dedicated to him if the purpose of this place is to honor our heroes?”

At this, Ranbob spun around, a small smile gracing his face. “Actually, contrary to popular belief, Ranboo was a hero. He was the reason Tommy had a fighting chance after his second exile.” Darryl hummed in acknowledgement, continuing to look through the books and journals on the shelf. 

Ranbob continued to share more about Ranboo’s story. Just like him, Ranboo suffered from selective amnesia, so he resorted to writing down the memories he could in a book. In it, he explained his relationships with Tommy and Tubbo, who were best friends on opposing sides of a raging war, and how he befriended the infamous anarchist, Techno. He wrote down his thoughts and feelings during the Green Festival, knowing that if anyone found out about his relations, he would be considered a traitor, a turncoat. He described Doomsday, the finality of everything- the day they blew up his home. 

Darryl shuddered at the thought of losing his best friends, putting down the journal. “I don’t know about you three, but I’m ready to go to the next person.” He strode out of the room, not waiting to see if the others were following him. 

The next room was lined with orange decor. On one side was a bed, orange sheets instead of black. Along another was a table with small trinkets, next to it, a giant stuffed animal meant to resemble a fox. 

“This is Fundy’s room.” Karl mused. “Nobody knew if he was a fox or a human, so they just decided on calling him a hybrid.” Ranbob looked over at him, giving a small smile before nodding. “I used to read about him all the time. I don’t know why, I suppose his story just stuck with me.” 

Ranbob, going into depth just as he had done with Ranboo, started, “Fundy wasn’t what you’d call a hero. He was more of.. A side character, you could say. His father was believed to be Wilbur, though his mother was unknown.” He rambled on about the mysterious.. Creature, eventually leading the group into another room. 

This one was furnished with a red wallpaper, a bed with yellow sheets, a piano, and a guitar. An unused drumset sat in the middle, the initials WS painted on the base. “Wilbur was.. I don’t actually know.. What he was..” 

The exotically dressed man fixed his crown, blinking his unearthly eyes. He picked up a small journal with no title, no name. They assumed it was from Wilbur, that the creators of the City of Mizu were able to retrieve it for the memorial room. 

The journal talked about Wilbur’s escapades. It began with him explaining the nation he created with Tommy. It started out as a place of freedom, but with the violent acts of an insane man who wanted power, it turned into nothing more than a crater, the nation's leader at the dead center. 

Wilbur had initiated a presidential election, and when he messed up and lost the vote, he was exiled, Tommy by his side. At that point, Wilbur was crazy. He wanted nothing more than to see the place he created as an escape blown into nothingness. Months after their exile, after the newly-elected president’s assassination, Wilbur blew it up, asking his father to kill him in the process. He wasn’t a hero, he was nothing close, but his story was one told years after his passing. He was a father figure, a friend, an older brother. It was a shame his story had to follow the path it did. 

No one said anything while rummaging around his room, too focused on reading the lyrics and books left behind by the man. Ranbob coughed, nodding his head towards the door. “We should move on. There’s two rooms left..”

Across the hall from Wilbur’s room was yet another. This one was larger, with two floors. “This is Tommy-” 

“And Tubbo’s room.” Darryl finished. 

The two were widely known. Tommy and Tubbo were best friends, inseparable. Their story was a tale everyone had heard of globally. Tommy was an.. Aggressive teenager, who created discord wherever he went, much like Karl and Alex, though at a different level. Tubbo on the other hand, brought people happiness. He was a great leader, and helped keep Tommy in check. They evened each other out. 

Their story was all over the place. At one point it’s happy, and then the next it becomes tragic. It’s a CD on loop, starting and ending the same no matter how many times it's played.

The lower floor was decorated in a dark green and yellow, with stuffed animals replicating bees. On the wall hung a black and white picture of the duo, each wearing their respective Revolution attire. 

Tommy’s room was no different aside from the colors being red and white. Though, sitting in a frame above his bed, hung a disc labeled Cat. Tommy’s prized discs were the beginning of something much bigger than a simple disagreement between rivals. 

-

The final room was decorated in purple and green. Bookshelves lined each spruce wall, nothing more than a chair occupying what empty space there was. There wasn’t much to be said about the room as nobody knew anything about it. The space itself and the character it was meant to resemble was all an enigma. 

“Hey, Ranbob?” Darryl questioned. When no one answered him he asked again. Karl and Alex looked over to him, glancing around the room. The peculiar individual was nowhere to be seen. 

Alex breathed sharply, looking towards the open door. “Maybe he had to go get something. With a man like that, you never know-” Alex was cut short, and after a flicker of black and white crossed their gaze, disappeared. 

Karl gulped, “A-Alex? This isn’t funny..” He looked over to Darryl, the brunette grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the room, not sparing any glances back. 

They reached the cafeteria, the ladder no longer where it was when they entered, and the storage room locked. Darryl sifted through the barrels, rolled carelessly into a corner, looking for anything to help them escape. His hands landed on something coarse. Pulling it out, he realized it was a note, a tiny key attached with a short string. “Karl, over here!” 

The blonde trotted over, silently reading the scrawl that Darryl held out in front of him. 

“This place isn’t safe. By now, if you’re reading this, you’re probably aware. Once within the City of Mizu, there is no escape. At least, I couldn't find one.. Maybe you can find a way out. The farthest I ever got was the lava ridden room. Go down the main hall, you’ll reach a locked door. Use this key to unlock it. From there, the rest is up to you.” 

Darryl shuddered beside him, wasting no time in grabbing Karl’s arm once again, dragging him through the corridors until they finally reached said room. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open, bursting through with Karl at his side. They were met with an intense wave of heat. 

There they stood, atop a small pillar, enclosed in nothing but flowing lava and three more platforms. “I- I think we have to get u-up there.” The younger pointed towards a metal door above the thin platform attached to the wall. 

“I’ll go.” Darryl said without hesitation. As the oldest of their group, he took on the role of a caretaker. He was usually the one to bail the others out of whatever trouble they got in, and made sure they took care of themselves. 

Karl stared at him in disbelief, but before he could do anything to stop him, the brunette began climbing up the pillars that led to the door. Just as he reached the last one, his hands slipped due to the sweat layering his palms, and all Karl heard before bounding out of the exit was a faint scream. 

He found himself running and running, finally reaching a place he hadn’t yet seen after going through each memorial room one by one. It was bright, with lanterns emitting a dull glow from the stone ceiling. In front of him was a white mask, encased in a glass box, a poorly drawn smiley face accessorizing it. It was terrifyingly similar to the description of the one Dream wore in the stories.

Dream was the villain of this story, known for his love of mayhem. He didn’t care about anything. Whether it was tangible or not, it didn’t matter to him, he destroyed everything. He was manipulative, and had an indescribable amount of power. This was his room.

A cold breeze hit Karl’s back, causing him to whip around. Ranbob’s cold, hard gaze met his own horrified one. A single step forward, and the world went black. 

\- 

“After what seemed like forever, I woke up back here, yet again thousands of years into the past. At least everyone’s still alive. Maybe I can stop it. Maybe I can save them.

I’m not a hero, I’m not a side character. I don’t know who I am. I recognized my friend’s rooms, each one dedicated to telling their stories and applauding their achievements. My room, purple and green, nobody knows who I am.”

Completing his journal entry, Karl finished it off with,

“Don’t forget who you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally written for my english class, so i didnt want to use a character named "badboyhalo" lmao. i took some freedom when it came to ranbob and the others because im not creative enough to come up with a name for ranboo. anyway, this was pretty bad, and short, and i hate it, but if you actually read it, thank you :) again, i did change up some of the events, and added a room for wilbur and ranboo, but other than that i tried to follow the events a little bit. i didnt want it to seem to far off from the stream, but also wanted to make it my own without completely changing everything 
> 
> if you read this, thank you, and i might post one for the masquerade eventually, still working on that one :) <3


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